


Sleeping on the Blacktop

by sporktato



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Battle Buddies (Achievement Hunter), Canon-Typical Violence, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack Pattillo, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Fake AH Crew, Sickfic, battle buddies can be platonic or romantic this is a choose your own adventure, no betas we die like men, the agency is mentioned, the first three are short im telling you now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25830871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporktato/pseuds/sporktato
Summary: Jeremy cares about Ryan, obviously, so when opportunities for his partner to get some much needed sleep presents itself (few and far between as they are), Jeremy allows them to happen.Or, five times Jeremy let Ryan sleep, and the one time he couldn't.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	Sleeping on the Blacktop

**Author's Note:**

> Listen I fuck with Insomnia Vagabond TM as much as the next bitch but like,,, let him sleep,,, let the man get some zzz's,,,  
> This is a cuddle buddies fic now I'm in charge here
> 
> (Also title from song of same name by Colter Wall we love Canadian rep in this house)




The key thing when working for the Agency was anonymity, which meant, when possible, avoiding any form of public transport. Not that Jeremy tended to complain; he disliked flying, and the inability to get up and stretch both they and trains offered was hell in his opinion. Additionally, it meant the definite positive of spending long hours alone with Ryan as they drove to their destination without the stresses of the Agency overhearing or the typical mission anxiety. Still, driving sometimes for days straight wore on you. Jeremy scrubbed at his face as he pumped gas in Buttfuck Nowhere, Nevada at fuck o’ clock in the pitch black. They were close to their destination, only about six more hours that Ryan was going to drive for, as Jeremy had already been driving for about that long. Jeremy rubbed at his eyes again, a yawn cracking his jaw as the pump clicked and stopped. Before heading into the station to pay and grab at least four energy drinks that Ryan would inevitably give him shit for Jeremy rapped on the tinted window, signalling to Ryan he was done and to get his ass in the driver’s seat. 

The teenage clerk looked exactly how Jeremy felt and didn’t bat an eye at the drinks and full sized chocolate bars for Ryan so Jeremy let him keep the change as he shuffled his way back to the car. Jeremy eased open the passenger door and froze, his tired brain taking a second to accept the fact that Ryan was still in the passenger seat. Jeremy practically growled at his partner and was opening his mouth to tell him to get his fat ass moving when it clicked that Ryan was asleep. If it wasn’t an ungodly hour in a place God probably hates it would have been a slightly awkward moment - Jeremy standing beside the car, door open, drinks in hand, just staring at his partner unconscious in the car. It’s just, Ryan never sleeps when they’re driving to their missions. A mix of mission anxiety, the unknowns of where they’re traveling and who they may meet, and either personally driving or talking with Jeremy as he drives all keep Ryan from sleeping. (Not that he sleeps a ton as it is, no matter how much Jeremy tries to talk him into it.) So after Jeremy’s brain reboots, he slowly closes the passenger door and walks around the car, quietly settling himself back in the seat he’s occupied for a long while already.

Jeremy absolutely does not want to drive any more; the monotonous striped pavement is already seared into the backs of his eyes, but he also absolutely does not want to wake Ryan. With a quiet sigh, Jeremy cracks the first energy drink and takes a few long gulps. As he mentally prepares himself for the next hours he takes another look at Ryan. 

First and foremost, Jeremy’s partner is absolutely relaxed, a look Jeremy had seen on him few enough times to count on one hand, softly puffing out steady breaths, long legs stretched out and arms folded in lap. Ryan’s slightly turned inward towards Jeremy, which means Jeremy can find amusement in Ryan’s longish hair falling over his face and moving with his breathing and can unabashedly stare at his sharp cheekbones practically glowing in the garish gas station fluorescents. Something in Jeremy’s stomach tightened warmly and as mad as he wanted to be about having to drive, he couldn’t find it in himself. With a final sigh and another swig of his caffeinated garbage, Jeremy pulled out of the gas station as Ryan slept beside him.

  
  
  


2.

Jeremy rolled over in bed, more asleep than awake. Blearily, he forced his eyes open, looking around his bedroom for what woke him up, focusing on the phone on the side table flashing a text notification and dimly illuminating the room in second long intervals. It buzzed again as Jeremy stared at it, and the flashing light continued with renewed vigour. Not without annoyance Jeremy pulled his arm out from the blankets and grabbed it, his thumbprint unlocking it without issue. Squinting at the sudden brightness, it was only when his stinging eyes read ‘Geoff’ at the top of the screen instead of ‘Bossman’ did Jeremy realize the phone he was holding wasn’t actually his, but Ryan’s. The two messages read,

_ ‘Need another gun @ docks in 15 by the crane _ ’, followed by,  _ ‘Is that a yes or no??? Kick ur ass if thats a no’ _ . 

The top corner of the screen read 2:18 in the morning. Jeremy huffed, rubbing at his eyes as he rolled back over to look at Ryan sleeping beside him in the electronic light.

The past 10 or so hours had been a shitshow for his buddy and it showed in ways that made Jeremy frown in anger. Aside from the bags under his eyes, there were dark bruises blooming on Ryan’s jaw and throat that looked absolutely garish in the shadows cast, and under the blanket wrapped around them both Jeremy knew he would find wrapped ribs and hands, a stitched up cut across the shoulder blade, and a surprisingly nasty twisted ankle. Ryan hadn’t been talking so Jeremy still didn’t know what exactly had happened, only that Ryan and Gavin had ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time, and while Gavin had walked away with hardly a scratch, he had still frantically clung to Ryan with a look in his eyes that meant he was going to rain hell on the bastards responsible in due time. It had taken Jeremy and Jack the better part of two hours to separate the two, patch a silent Ryan up, and get them both to separate beds - Gavin to his own and Ryan to Jeremy’s, hence the current sleeping situation. 

During the entirety of this, Geoff and Michael had been off together doing their own thing and in the mess of it all, both Jack and Jeremy had forgotten to pass the (worrying) memo along. Jeremy contemplated what to do. In his sleep, Ryan stretched an arm out to latch onto Jeremy’s front, letting out a sigh of content as he did. Jeremy very much wanted to ignore Geoff’s texts to Ryan and stay where he was, but he knew that could very easily cost either Geoff or Michael their lives. 

With a sigh, Jeremy pulled himself from Ryan’s grip, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead as he frowned and made a noise of complaint, but thankfully remained asleep. Using Ryan’s phone screen as a guiding light, he quickly jotted a note to Ryan, hoping to return before he woke, and sent ‘On my way’ to Geoff. On his own phone Jeremy sent a text to Jack just in case, and after finding his clothes as quietly as possible in the almost dark, slipped out the door, hoping Geoff would be fine with Rimmy Tim standing in for Vagabond.

  
  
  


3.

Jeremy pulled at his hair in frustration, seriously contemplating screaming into a pillow as he cursed Gavin’s name to high heaven. Really, it was more Jeremy’s fault than Gavin’s he was in this situation, but like hell was he going to put the blame on himself. Team Nice Dynamite had been sent to do some recon, and half an hour later Jack had started huffing about something on her laptop not working properly. 

Now, none of them were on Gavin’s level, but Jeremy considered himself tech savvy enough to manage, and had offered to take a look as the gents started to retire for the night. That was about two hours ago, and now it was just Jeremy in the living room desperately wanting to just chuck Jack’s laptop off the balcony and tell her to get a new one. The most frustrating part was Jeremy knew what the issue was, and he knew how to fix it in theory, but everything he had tried so far didn’t give him the result he was hoping for. 

Actually, as he sat with his face in his hands, the actual most frustrating part was Gavin would have done it in about five minutes. Jeremy could practically hear Gavin’s stupid voice in his ears ribbing him. Jeremy needed to fix it before Gavin came back the next night, the stupid prick could never know about this, his ego was big enough without Jeremy handing more ammo to him on a silver platter. Another half hour, he figured, then he’d call it a night and deal with it in the day.

Forty five minutes later Jeremy had probably done more harm than help. The little clock on the laptop was judging him. The best question at this point was how, after everything Jeremy’s overcome, a beat up laptop is his downfall? Was Jeremy being dramatic? Yes, but it was almost three a.m.. If Ryan were here he’d go on about man versus machine and - Ryan! Jeremy almost shot off the couch. Why his partner hadn’t crossed his mind before was a mystery; it was common knowledge Ryan was the second best at tech stuff, and he wouldn’t give Jeremy the ribbing of the ages Nice Dynamite and Geoff would. With new energy, Jeremy scooped up Jack’s laptop and practically jogged to Ryan’s room, rapping on the door as a warning before entering. 

The room’s pitch black, and at first Jeremy assumes Ryan’s not in his room, not an uncommon occurrence. At three in the morning he would usually be in the pool, but Jeremy had been facing the patio the entire night without seeing him. Possibly the gym, possibly out driving, or maybe in Jeremy’s room where he tends to go when his nightmares get bad.

The sound of fabric shifting in the dark startles Jeremy more than it should have, and now that he’s focusing he can hear breathing coming from the bed. With his eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from the hallway, it’s not hard now for Jeremy to make out Ryan’s outline, lying on his stomach, face stuck into his pillow. Jeremy smiles ruefully. Of course the one time Jeremy needs his partner in the middle of the night is the one time Ryan is able to sleep seemingly without issue. 

With a sigh Jeremy heads for the door, silently closing it behind him as he returns to the hall. Jeremy’s not about to wake Ryan for something as silly as this, he’ll get him to fix it in the morning and they’ll both pretend it was Jeremy by himself and Gavin will hear none of it. For now Jeremy heads to his own bed.

  
  
  


4.

Jeremy pushes at Gavin in front of him, shoving him hard enough to send him flailing off his perch on Michael’s shoulders and backwards into the pool. Jack, Jeremy’s own seat, cheers and spins them both around in the pool as Michael attempts to drown Gavin for losing the chicken fight. Given how the heist today went it wasn’t very warranted but Jeremy certainly wasn’t about to get between a Nice Dynamite fight. 

As far as Fake heists went, today had been perfect; money and future blackmail, in and out with no injuries or even an unsalvageable car, the Lads loudly whooping the whole ride home as Jack spun doughnuts in the empty patches of road. They were celebrating with bevs and pool fun now as the sun set, or at least the Lads and Jack were. The other two old men were set up on the outdoor couches, each a book in hand and debating god knows what about something one read. Totally boring. 

After Jack had dumped Jeremy into the pool as well he climbed out to fetch more bevs from the cooler by Geoff, smirking as he leans over Geoff’s shoulder, dripping chlorinated water on his pages. It goes about how Jeremy expected and he gets hit hard in the side with the hardcover as Geoff screams obscenities at him and Ryan chuckles into his own book. Jeremy grabs his drink from the cooler and beats a hasty retreat back to the water, already knowing there’s gonna be a mark from the book.

  
  


They continue like this for a long while, Geoff and Ryan on the sidelines as the other four play more chicken fights, polo, and other games Gavin invents seemingly on the fly. After a while they relax more. The sun is fully set and the pool and patio are lit only by the lights from inside and the white LEDs Gavin and Ryan had strung up along the edges of the pool a while ago. Jack’s commandeered the flamingo floaty and is drinking her beer floating round whichever way a Lad pushes her. Michael’s in the shallow end and Gavin and Jeremy had divvied up the pool noodles. It’s nice, Jeremy thinks, barcalounging on the purple noodles, what they have going, and with who, it’s nice and Jeremy could live like this forever. 

Suddenly Michael snorts and starts machine gun laughing. Jeremy looks to where he’s pointing and laughs alongside Gavin. Jack lets out a weary ‘Oh my god’ and downs the rest of her beer. In the shadows, on the couch, both Geoff and Ryan are asleep; heads on opposite arms of the couch and legs tangled up together in the middle. Ryan’s book is bookmarked and closed on the table in front but Geoff’s is nowhere to be seen, most likely cast to the ground. As one Michael and Gavin make moves to get out of the pool and presumably cause a ruckus. Jeremy makes a noise of disagreement and even Jack sticks her arm out to Gavin with a ‘Wait.’

“Let them sleep.” Jack adds. “God knows they both earned it after today.” She was right; while the heist had gone perfectly, it was only due to the literal weeks of prep work Geoff and Ryan had gone through, and both had pulled more than their own weight during the actual heist. Michael grumbles and Gavin slaps the water but both relent, though not without a healthy dose of old man jokes. 

Not long after Jack gets out, talking of showering and sleeping for the next 24 hours. A bit after that Michael taps out too, the energetic high of the day coming to an end and he pulls Gavin out with him. Michael nods towards the two on the couch as he dries off. “What are we doing with these two?” 

Jeremy shrugs from in the pool with a noncommittal noise. “I’ll deal with them.” Michael nods and he and Gavin head in. One of them, probably unthinkingly, turns off the living room lights, leaving Jeremy with just the LEDs and the lights of the city. He takes over Jack’s floaty. It’s - not quite eerie, but close, floating in the pool by himself in the middle of the night. Knowing Geoff and Ryan, unconscious as they are, are nearby helps, and Jeremy almost falls asleep on the flamingo. 

After an unknown period of time he slides off his trusty steed and heads for the stairs, pulling open the last towel to begin drying off. He creeps to the couch once he’s no longer actively dripping and yeah there’s Geoff’s book facedown and forlorn until Jeremy rescues it, marking it with the old receipt and setting it by Ryan’s. Both of them are dead asleep and relaxed, though how Geoff is sleeping in dress pants is a mystery and while Jeremy knows waking Ryan will be easy enough, there’s a large part of him saying just leave both of them be. It’s not supposed to rain anytime soon and Ryan at least will wake up naturally in a few hours. If Geoff’s still out here in the morning, well, it’s his fault for whatever Gavin and Michael do to him. Glancing to Ryan one last time for any premature sign of nightmares, Jeremy quietly gathers both books on top of the drink cooler and carries it all inside, making sure to leave the LEDs on and the door unlocked.

  
  
  


5.

None of them had seen Ryan in hours. That in itself was not particularly novel. What was slightly worrisome was even Jeremy had no idea where his battle buddy was. Jeremy had called him a few times and sent a handful of texts in case Ryan wasn’t feeling overly verbal today but no response. Both Jeremy and Gavin had been itching to try to find him all day but Jack and Michael had both said let the man have some space and time. Eventually Geoff relented, telling Jeremy to just go see if there was anything of interest in Ryan’s room, as Jeremy was the only one with a key. Gavin had pouted a little about not being allowed to ‘just GPS his ass’ but was easily soothed with the promise that tracking Ryan down digitally would be the next step. 

With the rest of the crew in the living room, Jeremy unlocked Ryan’s door and slipped in, reaching for the lightswitch before realizing the bedside lamp was on, lighting up the room easily enough, as well as the man in the bed. Jeremy wants to be pissed at Ryan for making them worry all day long, literally it’s nearly 4pm, but at the same time this secondary jolt of fear hits Jeremy’s stomach seeing Ryan asleep like this. He sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly before approaching the bed. Ryan’s facing out towards the room, loosely curled nearly in the middle of the bed and Jeremy knows even before he sits on the bed something is wrongwrongwrong. 

Still, Jeremy sits on the edge and brushes the hair from Ryan’s eyes and the older man doesn’t even flinch. Jeremy’s on edge, the Agency trained part of his brain running through every possible cause and end result in a dead sprint and he has to swallow twice, tell himself whatever is wrong he will fix it, or beg borrow or barter to find someone who can, before he can reach out to Ryan again. Ryan’s arms are tucked into the sheet that is twisted haphazardly around his body so Jeremy gently presses a finger to the pulse point on Ryan’s neck. He still doesn’t move, but his heart is fine, Jeremy can hear his breathing is fine, and having those two crossed off is a relief like no other. 

Finally, Jeremy so so lightly presses the back of his hand to Ryan’s forehead and nearly pulls away at the heat that hits him. Tension runs out of Jeremy. Ryan’s sick, nothing more, just a fever. That’s easily dealt with, compared to the possibilities Jeremy was imagining. 

Still, Jeremy frowns, he doesn’t like seeing Ryan like this - not weak, Ryan could never look weak, but - not living, Jeremy figures. It’s hard to put into words, he only knows he’s tasting the Agency on the back of his tongue seeing Ryan like this and that needs to be stopped before it can properly start. Jeremy takes a moment to debate how to deal with the crew in this situation, mindlessly rubbing circles on Ryan’s shoulder through the sheet, the one with the Battle Buddies tattoo matching Jeremy’s own. After a moment Jeremy stands and exits the room.

Four sets of eyes lock on Jeremy as he enters the living room. He explains the situation, leaving out the acid in his throat, and there’s a mixture of relief at knowing where Ryan is, anger from Michael about having them worried, and more worry in a lesser extent about Ryan’s health. 

Suddenly Gavin’s phone rings and he’s out of the room prattling on about something exceedingly British, then Michael leaves muttering something about ‘guess I’ll do it myself’ and Jeremy is in his least favourite situation: alone with multiple Gents. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Geoff and Jack and obviously Ryan, and they’re great one on one, or multiple Lads on one Gent, but multiple Gents with just Jeremy and suddenly all the attention is on him and they deal with their emotions in a way that floors Jeremy and already Geoff is flipping his phone in his hands over and over, thinking of ways to make his crew impervious to sickness no doubt and Jack is staring him down like she can feel the Agency too and Jeremy has to rub at his eyes for a second to get her weight off of him. 

When he opens them again Geoff and Jack are staring at each other. Jeremy is obviously not part of this conversation. Silently Geoff heads towards the elevator, dialing someone as the door separates him from Jeremy and then Jack is walking past him, grabbing his wrist as she goes and Jeremy stumbles after her into first her and Geoff’s bedroom and then to their ensuite bathroom. 

Silently he watches her rummage in the cabinets, pulling out different pill bottles and throwing them back in. “Is he allergic to anything?” She asks. Jeremy shakes his head. It occurs to him the crew has probably never seen Ryan sick. The last time Jeremy had was after their mission in Russia when they both ended up with frostbite years ago. Jack presses a pill bottle into Jeremy’s hand. She waits as he reads it. Nothing sticks out to him, and it’s not like he hasn’t trusted Jack with their drugs up to this point. “He’ll be fine.” Jack states, in that way of hers that tells him not to argue.

“I know.” Jeremy replies, still staring at the bottle in his hands, because he does know.

“You’re worried, though.” She starts to push him out of the bathroom.

“Course I am. He’s my partner. And, I don’t know, sickness is different from injury. We plan for injury.”

They walk back to the kitchen; Jeremy fills a glass of water as Jack hums noncommittally. Jeremy adds as an afterthought, “It just, caught me off guard, I think.” 

Jack hums again, staring at him intently. Jeremy’s pretty sure it’s a requirement to be able to stare into someone’s soul in order to be a Gent. “He’ll be fine. He’s got you looking after him.” Jeremy huffs, smiling at the floor. “And if that doesn’t work, you know Geoff would go to war for any of us, I’m pretty sure figuring out how to get rid of a fever requires less work.” 

At that Jeremy laughs outright, smiling at Jack. “Thanks.”

She squeezes his shoulder with a smile on her own lips before pushing Jeremy in the direction of the bedrooms.

Reentering Ryan’s room, Jeremy returns to his perch on the side of the bed, setting the pills and water on the bedside table quietly. He gives into the urge to run his fingers through Ryan’s hair, watching as the tension slowly leaves Ryan’s face at the repetitive action. It’s clear even in his sleep he’s feeling the effects of the fever, but Jeremy very much doubts he’ll be able to get Ryan awake enough to swallow the water and pills. With a final brush through Ryan’s hair Jeremy stands, toeing off his shoes and socks and stumbling out of his jeans. He’ll get Ryan to take the meds when Ryan wakes naturally. For now, Jeremy climbs under the sheets too, pulling his phone out to keep him occupied, and hardly blinks as even sick Ryan manages to channel his inner koala and wraps around Jeremy in no time. It’s a little hot and sweaty, but if it means knowing Ryan will be okay, Jeremy will take it.

  
  
  


+1

Jeremy came to with pressure in his ears, pushing into his brain and making him want to keep his eyes closed and vomit. He managed to do neither of those things and opened his eyes to dim shapes and distant shadows, dust still swirling madly around him. There was noise, sounding very far off and underwater, noise of yelling and gunshots somewhere outside the cocoon of cement and debris Jeremy was trapped inside. Thankfully, Jeremy didn’t have to push too hard at his memory to recall the last while, while he was pushing quite hard at the cement slab in front of him. 

A meeting with another gang, a chance to unite against a larger one. A setup, and a bomb, a bomb that Jeremy had been the closest to. Ryan, constantly vigilant Ryan noticing before it was too late. Ryan flying at Jeremy, pulling him off his feet and protecting and - boom. Yes, as Jeremy’s eyes finally focus and adjust, there’s Ryan beside him, on the ground unconscious with blood seeping from his forehead and hands busted up, and as Jeremy searches with his hands he can feel the heat blisters on his jacket and the tufts of singed ponytail. How Jeremy is perfectly fine is no mystery; he distantly thinks this is the only time he will be grateful he’s so small, easy for Ryan to fully cover. 

Jeremy breathes slightly easier after finding Ryan’s pulse, but they are still trapped in the debris and he has no idea what the state of their team is; all he knows is the guns are getting louder as his ears clear and there are people very near the two of them. Whether they are their team or the other gang, Jeremy doesn’t know. Pulling a hand through his hair, Jeremy starts to shake Ryan.

“Rye you need to get up.” There’s a pause in the shooting that Jeremy practically holds his breath for. It quickly picks back up and Jeremy tries again, shakes Ryan a little harder, speaks a little louder. “Goddamn it Ryan get up.” Still nothing. Jeremy tries not to stress; they both had survived much worse at the Agency, what’s a little bomb in comparison to say third degree burns or seeing your own ribs outside your chest or a gunshot shattering your pelvis? Really, this is nothing, Jeremy rationalizes as he rips the hem of his shirt to staunch the cut across Ryan’s forehead, they even have other people they trust helping, if the continued gunfire is any sign. Still, something is building in Jeremy’s chest, instincts left over from the Agency telling him the firefight is almost done and he needs Ryan awake if the wrong people are left standing. Growling with the churning emotions, he huffs at Ryan. “If I had known letting you sleep all the time would end in you not waking up when I need you I would’ve kept your fat ass awake, Haywood.” 

He slaps Ryan. It’s pretty hard he won’t lie, but he’s stressed and the shots have ended and there’s footsteps right outside their accidental cover and for the first time in a long time Jeremy feels like a cornered animal. The point is, it works. Ryan jolts awake, arms coming up without thought to protect and he shuffles awkwardly, trying to get up, get moving, before his body is fully awake but Jeremy’s seen this thousands of times and backs off before Ryan swings at him and lets his partner reorient himself. Ryan makes a questioning quiet noise and Jeremy responds in a hum, a language only they know. Their eyes meet as the concrete around them starts to shift. Ryan’s woozy, and the space they’re in is too small, but they’ve both been caged before and won’t ever let it happen again. 

The slab directly in front of them shifts, and a set of hands on either side pull. The distant streetlight glow floods in through the cracks as the slab shifts and twists and finally falls backwards and Ryan and Jeremy are both pointing their guns at Geoff, looking in worriedly and disheveled. Gavin’s beside him perfectly mirroring him and slightly more bloodied. Then finally Michael and Jack, on either side of the cave in, clothes torn and Jack’s shin bleeding profusely into her shoe. Jeremy and Ryan’s guns drop in synchronicity; Gavin lets out a sharp bark of a laugh that’s all anxiety. Ryan in turn huffs out a painful laugh and promptly passes right back out, slumping into Jeremy. Really, it’s all fine.


End file.
